This Night is Over, We Talk
by Bye11
Summary: "Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break." (William Shakespeare, Macbeth). Series of one-shots, each imagining a different version of THE talk between Will and Alicia. Spoilers for the season finale.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: A new lunch break, a new one-shot. But the story is not marked as complete because I'm planning to write many different versions of this conversation. Some will be more realistic and thus angsty, others will see them make up. This one is all-dialogue since I'm experimenting with that formula these days and assumes that Kalinda told Will about Cary's new firm. I'm not sure that it would happen but just go with it ;). For the idea, you can thank/blame Ausiello that confirmed that this conversation will happen. I am waiting for StrawberrySab to write her wonderful version of it but since she is tied up at the moment you'll have to make do with mine. This one is angsty, so beware. **

"Alicia, you didn't have to come. You could have made some calls from home."

"No, it's ok."

"I'm very sorry. It's just Kalinda told us that Cary is leaving to start a new firm and we have to make sure that all our clients are staying with us."

"Will, please, don't be sorry. Not today. I have to tell you something."

"From the look on your face, I would say that Sweeney is leaving. Please, tell me that's not true."

"He is leaving. And so I'm I."

"What?"

"It's the only way to close it, Will. I have to not see you every day. For my sanity and yours."

"You're not serious. Tell me you're not seriously considering abandoning me."

"I'm not considering. I have decided."

"You're making a mistake. Maybe this is the only way to close it but we shouldn't close it at all."

"Will, we have talked about this."

"Have we? When, Alicia? When have we talked about why it's so important for you to fight whatever there is between us, uh?"

"You've always understood."

"And I do, Alicia. I understand the complications and I'm telling you that I'm willing to work through them. Why aren't you?"

"Will, don't make this more difficult than it already is."

"I'm not making anything difficult. I'm making it clear. You seem to be drawn to me, Alicia and I'm conceited enough to believe that it's not just sexual attraction. So why are you so scared of giving us a chance? Are you afraid of getting hurt, is that it? I'm never going to hurt you, Alicia. Never. You have to believe that."

"Of course I believe that, Will."

"Then what?"

"I can't break up my family, I just can't."

"Do you want them to learn that once they are parents they can't have a life of their own?"

"I want them to learn than when they become parents they have to think about someone else before thinking of themselves. Grace didn't even want me to go in the car with you, let alone having a relationship."

"She doesn't know me. How could she approve of a man she doesn't know? You saw what happened with Zach in court. I would dare say that he liked being questioned by me. I told you once before. I could make a good impression, Alicia."

"You could, Will but you would always be the man that broke up their family and I would be the mother that let it happen."

"So it's all on you? Your family was perfect before?"

"No, but we have repaired it. I have repaired it. I won't destroy it. That's something my mother would do."

"Your mother strikes me as an happy woman, one without regrets."

"It's good to know then that she doesn't regret hurting me and my brother. You don't have children, Will. I will do anything for them."

"I think sometimes you hide behind being a mother, Alicia. It's your way of justifying to yourself why you shouldn't take risks and be happy with me."

"Once you're a father, Will, we'll talk about hiding behind roles versus really loving your children."

"Fine, ok, I can't argue against your parenting decisions, but, please don't leave the firm, Alicia. A slew of clients will come with you and we will already be crippled by Cary. More than that, Diane will probably leave now that Peter is Governor, I need someone I can trust. Someone that will be by my side. I need you. I can even make you name partner, if that's what you're after."

"It's not. Will, I wish I could stay. I can't. We have tried avoiding each other and it doesn't work, we have tried being friends and it doesn't work. Whenever we are in the vicinity of each other, I have to fight and fight. I'm tired."

"Then I'll fight for the both of us, Alicia. If you can't be with me, work with me, help me through this difficult period."

"Will, please, stop. Saying no to you over and over again is painful. Let me go. It'll better for the both of us in the long-run."

"It will be better for you, Alicia. You're being selfish. Just own it."

"You'll move on, being away from me."

"Because it worked like a charm last time, didn't it? 15 years and I was still waiting for you. 15 years of being away from you and it took a few months for us to find our way back to each other. I won't move on this time that I have gotten to see that it wasn't just a juvenile crush."

"I'm sorry, Will. I don't know what else to say."

"If you leave Lockhart/Gardner, if you leave me, our friendship is over, you realize that, right? I can't justify to myself why I'm still friends with someone who doesn't care about me at all."

"Don't say that. I do care about you."

"Just not enough to fight."

"Will..."

"You can go, Alicia. I don't even want to know what clients you are taking. I'll have Kalinda handle it. Go. But know this: one day, soon, you'll find yourself navigating through the turbid waters of being a name partner. You'll fight with Cary over a questionable client, maybe one that interferes with Peter's image or you'll have a problem with secretaries or other employees, maybe Sweeney will drive you crazy, I don't know. You'll need someone to talk to, someone that won't see the issue in a political light, someone that could just comfort you. That day, Alicia, you'll be tempted to call me. Because you know that I would understand, because you know that I could make you laugh, because you know who I am and who we are. But you won't call me. We will be nothing more than bitter adversaries by then. When you're alone with your wine or tequila in your office, remember today. Remember that you decided that our friendship wasn't worth fighting for."

"So see, after all, you will move on. You'll hate me but you will move on."

"I'm not sure I'm even capable of hating you, Alicia. And even if I were, you know that hate doesn't let you move on. Indifference does, and no matter what happens, I could never be indifferent to you. Now, please, leave."

"I'm going to miss you, Will and I'll always be sorry."

"I have heard that before. Goodbye, Alicia."

"Goodbye Will."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This one was originally much angstier than the first one. Then I added the last part to put a glimpse of hope at the end of the scene. But the warning stands. The conversation is angsty and assumes that Alicia and Will haven't truly talked in a few months. Wounds heal with time. Infected ones fester. **

"Enough. Mrs Florrick, Mr Gardner, I hold you both in contempt. Let's see if a cell helps you get rid of this senseless animosity."

There they were, sitting on the opposite sides of the bench in the cell. Alone for the first time in months.

"We should report him for judicial overreach. He can't just hold us in contempt for no reason."

Will was tense and visibly upset at having to spend even a few unnecessary minutes with her.

"Maybe he's not completely wrong. We have been at each other's throats during this case. And the one before that, and so on. Now that we're here we should try to solve our unexplainable rage."

"Your unexplainable rage. Mine is very justified."

True. Her anger was just a consequence of his. Nothing more than that.

"Will, I act angry with you because I don't know how to act around you."

"Whose fault is that? What did you expect, Alicia?"

It was a reasonable question. She had caused all of this mayhem. She should have foreseen it all. Somehow she hadn't.

"I didn't expect anything. I didn't plan that far ahead. I just reacted to the circumstances."

"You didn't plan? Everything that matters needs a plan, hasn't anybody ever told you that? You know what, my bad, I don't matter so you didn't need a plan after all."

She physically perceived the violence of the verbal whip Will had just cracked. Most of all, distance hadn't worked at all because all she desired to do at that moment was to kiss him, to make him forget all the devastation she had generated. She settled for words.

"How could you think that you don't matter to me?"

"How could I not think that?"

He was angry. He had every right to be. But she didn't know how to fix it. She resorted to tell the truth.

"I'm sorry."

"I have such a collection of your sorrys, I don't know where to put them anymore. At times, I wonder if sorry means something else to you than it does to me."

Hearing Will rubbing in her face her track record was another vehement blow. She had never wished to cause him pain.

"I never..."

"Don't. Don't you dare say that you never meant to hurt me because it would be an insult to my intelligence. You did mean to hurt me. More than that, you wanted to hurt us, our relationship. You have always known that the dangerous element between us has never been our mutual attraction. Attraction isn't difficult to feel. It also isn't that difficult to control. We're hard-wired to do it. The problem has always been our friendship. How we always got each other with a look, how hard we laugh when we are together, how casual and blunt we could be. No masks, no efforts. That kind of thing is much more difficult to replicate. Indeed, it's so rare that one might not come across it more than once or twice during an entire lifetime. You knew that to get rid of me you had to hurt our friendship and very deliberately set out to do it. Bravo, Alicia, bravo. You reached your goal, as always."

She needed to cry. She never deliberately set to do anything. She just found herself unable to control the perfect storm and saw in Cary and his offer her only possible life-raft. That's all she had done. But she could clearly see how it would look to him. How easy it was to interpret the facts in his way.

It had always been on the back of her head, his sorrow. She had avoided facing him with the resignation letter for precisely with that rationale. Then she had reasoned herself out of the guilt. She couldn't be that important to him. He would get over it and they would be merely adversaries.

Seeing him like this ended the charade.

She had been that important to him. He would not get over it.

"So we're stuck forever in this circle of bitterness and animosity?"

Don't tell me that, Will. Tell me that in the future we could be able to repair some fragment of what was between us.

"I'll do my best to tone down the animosity. But I don't see how I can easily get rid of the bitterness."

He went back to his silence. Their silences used to be full of non-verbal communication, comfortable. This one was painful. Could a silence be painful? She had to end it.

"Is Kalinda coming to get you?"

"I think so."

"You two are getting closer lately."

They had been. Always huddled together whispering. And then at the bar, drinking and smiling. There to remind her and Cary of what they had lost with their new venture.

"What are you trying to do, Alicia?"

Anything to break the silence. Anything.

"Chit-chat? Let's just be silent until they come to get us, shall we?"

She nodded but she couldn't even acquiesce to this basic request. Will had been far away for so long and she had so many things to tell him. All the times she had impulsively called him and then closed the phone before the call could go through, all the instances she had just ached to unwind with him, or to report to him something that was sure to make him laugh, flashed in her mind.

The words bubbled out, without her control.

"Zach is doing great in college. It turns out that I am one of those moms that needs to hear from her children way more if they're far away. Anxiously obsessive, he calls me. Having a corner office is quite distracting. I find myself looking at the view much more than I did before. Dealing with employees is incredibly stressful. How can they not understand that if we overextend ourselves we are only going to get into trouble? We're just a start-up business. Me and Cary, we have inaugurated a tradition. A glass of wine every night before leaving to talk about the firm. The other fourth-years don't seem to take lightly our privileges and so we have to work together against them at times. They're supposed to be partners, you know?"

Will was giving her his back and hadn't said a word during her rant. At least he was listening. She had so craved being listened to. For so long.

"Being the First Lady of Illinois is extremely tedious. Eli makes me go to these charity openings as if I have nothing better to do. Ribbon-cuttings and compliments flow from all over. I have to know exactly the designer of each garment I wear because the press might be interested or the label might get upset if I don't give them their due credit in a public appearance. God forbid I mistake one for the other. Then the polite conversation at these events is painstakingly cruel. I try to use them as networking opportunities for the firm but I wish I could go back to work rather than be there and bore myself to death. I saw Diane at some of these events."

That had to spark his interest, didn't it?

"She still only uses pleasantries with me."

Ask the reason, Will. Instead it was still all quiet.

"It's because of you. She told me that she was very grateful for everything Peter did for her but that she didn't think she could easily forgive what I had done to you."

"Diane is an astonishing person. She is also a loyal friend."

Eleven words. That's all she had managed to elicit from him. Eleven.

"Do you think that me and Cary can reach that kind of relationship?"

"I don't know."

"Indulge me, Will, please."

"Why?"

"These last few months I have been approached by so many people that want to be friends. The last time it happened Maddie used me to get information on Peter. So I smile and nod and shake their hands but I'm never going to consider them friends. And I..."

"You need a friend."

She would accept that assessment of her situation even if it wasn't the truth. She didn't need a friend. She needed Will back.

"I do. Will, isn't there any way to mend things between us?"

"No."

"What if I said that I made a mistake? Would that change anything?"

"No. It wouldn't. Why are you never going to consider them friends, Alicia?"

"I don't trust them."

"Precisely, that's the core of everything. It took you four years to completely recover your trust in your husband and you fought tooth and nails to do that, because you wanted to preserve your family."

She hadn't completely recovered her trust in Peter. She was still hesitant about revealing some of her sexual fantasies, for example. What if he had tried with Amber and found her lacking? What if he had chosen Amber precisely because she had to remain the relatively-pure wife? She still found herself paying one look more than necessary to Peter's aides and staffers. But she didn't reveal it to Will because it would be the final nail in her coffin.

"I have no reason to fight."

That she couldn't tolerate. Of course he did.

"You said yourself that the kind of relationship we had is something you come across once or twice during your lifetime. It's worth fighting for."

She sounded more and more like Peter and it frightened her. In the span of one conversation she had developed a keen empathy for all of her husband's pleas and at the same time a deep loathing for herself. She, who knew what being profoundly hurt meant, had done the same to Will.

"You didn't believe it so, why should I?"

The path of their dialogue seemed already written and she had perceived the finality of it. Just as Peter had irreparably broken their marriage, she had irreparably broken whatever she had with Will. In a way, Will was right, she had achieved her goal. It just left her feeling like she imagined any drowning victim would. Fighting with all her might to preserve something vital, despite already knowing her destiny.

"Because you're better than me."

He almost laughed but then said:

"Even if I were to force myself to do it, Alicia, it wouldn't work. Say we get out of here and we get a drink..."

Such an heavenly scenario that was!

"I might want to tell you about what a pain in the ass one of my clients is being. Or how I am hating more and more one of my equity partners but it would have to be a redacted conversation. Just as in the documents we get from the Army or from Secret Services, I would have to stop before each compromising word, before telling you too much, giving you the chance to steal my client or my attorney."

"I would never do that."

"Wouldn't you? How would I know? You did it before, Alicia. What's changed?"

"I have changed. I know better now."

Peter had practically already written the script needed for this talk with Will. She didn't need to think, she just had to remember. It wouldn't work on Will just as it hadn't worked on her.

"That's great for you, but not enough for me. I can't be sure and trust is about being sure."

An officer interrupted their charged exchange.

"Mr. Gardner, you can go."

"Thank you."

"Will, I'm not done trying to change your mind."

He said nothing while he moved towards the exit and his life without her.

She took it as a tiny victory.

Maybe behind all his misery and affliction, behind his bitter and resentful words, behind his declarations of distrust, Will still wanted to be proven wrong.

She would be up to the task.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: You can blame/thank StrawberrySab for the far less angsty direction of the end of this one ;). She hurt my Will and I had to do something :D. I hope they don't seem too much OOC. This one assumes that Will and Alicia haven't truly talked ever since the night of the elections. Enjoy!**

Diane was radiant at her confirmation party. She belonged in the crowd of judges and politicians, smiling, polite, diplomatic and at the same time forceful when she needed to be.

She admired the older woman so much for her poise, her way of conducting business, the confidence she exuded. Now that she even had a stable, and happy, relationship Diane Lockhart was the envy of the entire room. Every woman in the ballroom, Alicia imagined, should want to grow up just like her.

She approached her, her arm intimately and casually linked with Peter's.

"Congratulations, Diane. I know you're going to make me proud. I can't imagine a Supreme Court Judge that will better serve the interests of Illinois' citizens" her husband said, clearly satisfied with his choice. Then again, he had always liked Diane.

"Thank you, Peter, for the opportunity. I had never dreamed that this could happen for me. I mean, of course I dreamt about it but then, those pesky ideals of mine always worked against me."

"You wouldn't give them up" she intervened.

"No, I wouldn't."

Diane was watching her strangely, trying to tell her something while Peter was none the wiser. Maybe she was just trying to remind her that she had given up those values in joining Cary at his new firm. Peter noticed that there was something unresolved between the two women and tried to break the tension.

"Oh, Diane, don't tell me you're still mad at Alicia for going on her own. It was the right timing. You would have done the same."

"Perhaps."

She focused her attention completely on Peter, smiled again, all gaiety, charm and kindness. Then she continued.

"I'm not mad, it's just strange to see how life can change radically in a few months."

Then when Peter had to excuse himself, Diane left too but not before revealing something she had already suspected.

"I'm still mad. But not for me, I have the life I so hard labored for. I'm going to enjoy my rewards. But for him, Alicia, I will always be mad."

Then she went to rejoin Kurt that seemed ill-at-ease left on his own in a large group of fourth or fifth-generation Democrats.

She hadn't specified who the him was. It would have been pleonastic.

The him in question was hanging out with Kalinda near the bar, his black, tailored suit a stark contrast to Kalinda's red dress.

She had never seen Kalinda in "grown-up"-wear before and yet she had found a dress that, despite being elegant, couldn't properly have been worn by anybody other than the smart, scary, fierce Kalinda.

From the matching smiles and the conspiratorial glances they kept throwing one another they were making fun of everybody in the room. Kalinda was probably disclosing some of the dirt on the self-important Senator that was directly on their eye-line. Will was listening in raptures to her and adding cogitations of his own. A few months before, she could have joined them and said something about his obnoxious manner of speaking or his bad breath.

They all would have toasted and she would have felt the time immediately speed up.

Instead, here she was, watching them from afar. Kalinda had kind of nodded at her before, acknowledging her presence. Will hadn't even done that. He had rigorously moved anytime she got closer to his area and Kalinda had never strayed from him. Like a faithful bodyguard, the best to keep away unwanted intruders.

She suspected he was doing the same for her.

Cary would have probably been brave enough to approach Kalinda with the protection of a public setting. But he wouldn't go near Kalinda and the man she had subtracted clients and attorneys from.

She had kept a Will-watch throughout the evening. She had seen him dance with Diane and the other female judges, she had observed him laugh with Kurt and even absentmindedly nod at Eli.

Then, way too early, he had made the necessary rounds and left the party with Kalinda.

She needed to slip away early. Unlike Peter and her kids, she had to go back in Chicago for an emergency injunction the day later. She had a long ride ahead of her so as soon as it was proper, she took the car Peter had prepared for her, left her kids with a thousand reminders for their father. He had smiled at her and told her she could be sure he would take care of their children and to come back as soon as she was done so they could spend at least part of the weekend together.

She had drunk a little too much and she was feeling a little tipsy. Thank God for the driver that was currently silently doing his job while she internally whined about those two or three glasses she shouldn't have had. The steady rhythm of the car lulled her to sleep and, even though she fought against it, the last image her conscious mind could conjure was that of how handsome Will had seemed that night.

* * *

"Madam, we have arrived."

She looked at her watch and nodded.

"Thank you so much."

"My pleasure, Madam, I'm thrilled to be serving the Governor."

She smiled while he helped get her out of the car and quickly got home. It took longer than anticipated to get out of the dress and eliminate the clips in her hair. Then she felt the need for a scalding hot shower. While under the spray she couldn't stop thinking about Will. About the apparently-insurmountable distance between the two of them, about how she had been missing him terribly, about how leaving his firm hadn't eliminated her fantasies, her needs.

Then, all of a sudden, she had resolved that she couldn't live one day more with that kind of avoidance between her and Will. She had to try and explain to him her reasoning, she had to do something.

She dressed casually and with her hair still half-wet she took her car, speeding in the empty Chicago streets towards his apartment.

Once there, the doorman regarded her suspiciously. She hoped he would let her pass without too much of a fuss.

"I'm here to see Mr. Gardner."

"I see, I'll call him and tell him you're here."

"That's not necessary, really."

"It's protocol, Madam First Lady."

He had recognized her but he was new enough that he hadn't known her in the time of her affair with Will, when she could waltz in without ever being interrupted. Will would have been delighted at her surprise. A time long gone.

"Are you sure you need to see him now? It's quite late."

"Yes, it's important."

The man, Maurice was the name on the tag, dialed a number and waited.

"Mr. Gardner, I'm sorry to disturb you at this hour. There is here Mrs. Florrick who would want to come up. She says it's important."

Maurice nodded.

"I understand, Sir, and sorry again for the late call."

Then he addressed her.

"I'm sorry, Madam, Mr. Gardner says he is very tired and that whatever the matter is, it can surely wait till the morning."

Her first reaction was to invoke her role, her importance. She had never done before but at this moment she wanted to use her being the wife of the Governor. Then she remembered her setting. Using her connection to her husband to bypass the doorman wouldn't endear her to Will one bit. She tried kindness again.

"Could you tell Mr. Gardner that it's ok and that I will wait in that chair till the morning if it's necessary?"

The man was annoyed at her insistence but nonetheless dialed the number again and relayed her message.

"Mr. Gardner says that you can go up."

"Thank you so much, Maurice."

* * *

When the elevator doors opened she noticed that Will was waiting for her on the door. She so wished she could run into his arms, kiss him desperately while he pinned her on the door and her legs naturally wrapped around his waist. For a second or two she considered giving in to her lust but then Will's arms blocked her. They were folded, not welcoming at all.

"What do you want, that you needed to harass my doorman and wake me up in the middle of the night?"

What did she want? She wanted to talk with him.

"I... We didn't have a chance to speak at Diane's party and I..."

"You're kidding, right? We had all the chances in the world. I just didn't want to. And I don't want to now. Goodnight"

By then, though, she had reached him and before he could close it she had inserted herself between the door and the wall. He was trapped now. He could either let her in or physically push her out.

Will, no matter how angry he was, would never touch her in a violent manner.

Indeed, he walked more inside his apartment and before locking the door on his bedroom she heard his words.

"How do I always forget how selfish you are with me?"

He had probably believed that sentence to be enough. She would leave the apartment and he would have gotten out of the conversation. He hadn't considered that this scenario posed the perfect opportunity. She would have loved to talk with him but most of all he needed to listen. So she crouched on the floor in front of his door and started speaking, sure from the noises she could hear that Will was still very awake.

"Do you remember our first real fight?"

Silence.

"The night of the Tort Law Exam. You had insisted we needed a night off even if we had Constitutional Law 4 days later. I had reluctantly accepted but then I blew you off focusing on the amendments. You called me just once and then gave up. You didn't speak to me again until I apologized. I hated admitting I was in the wrong, then and now. With one silly "I'm sorry", you were my Will again. You just needed me to admit that leaving you waiting at the pub had been a misguided thing to do. No judgment, no grudges. We went out that night and it was one of the most memorable celebrations of my life."

She could have sworn she had heard a noise resembling a sob. Was Will crying behind that door?

"I know that I could say sorry until the end of the weekend and it wouldn't be enough. But I had to make some kind of amend."

"Will you listen to me?"

Seconds passed in the quiet of the apartment. Finally, an answer.

"It's not like I have much of a choice."

He did have a choice. He was in bed originally so his noise-canceling headphones for when he was working late and needed some music must have been on his bedside. He could have put them on and drown whatever apology or explanation she could offer. He had chosen not to.

"It was a pure act of hubris. I thought severing all connections with you would help me stand straight on the righteous path. That you were the problem in my life. That me and Cary could be better than you and Diane at managing a firm. It makes me laugh, how utterly wrong I was. Being name partners is incredibly exciting for about a week before you realize all the problems that come with it. And life without you..."

How could she describe the hours that passed one too similar to the other, without any levity to look forward to during the day? How could she make him understand the loneliness of the nights with Peter in some gala or the other talking with everybody but connecting with nobody at all? How could she transmit the sensations that went galore any time she saw in court? How could she justify her barely controllable sexual attraction to a man she had abandoned and betrayed?

While she was lost trying to express what was in her head coherently, Will started talking.

"When I went back home during Winter Break I broke up with my girlfriend because I had fallen in love with you. When you married him, I was heartbroken but somehow hopeful. I thought that I had the ultimate proof that I was capable of falling in love and that it would happen again. I just had to wait. I would meet one amazing woman one day and I would forget all about you. I would experience those feelings again and this time she would choose me. Happy ending. Instead, woman after woman, relationship after relationship I found out that it wasn't that simple. And then when you came to work at Lockhart/Gardner I laughed. I had been a fool. I could not fall in love with another woman because I was still in love with you."

There they were, in the deep of the night, both deeply in love, a door to represent the solid barrier that she had put between them. For what? Was it really for Zach and Grace or was it still that stupid need of not resembling her mother?

Was she supposed to be able to control the tears? She couldn't. They flowed freely and the "Will" she pronounced was a plea to him to find a way to get them out of this impossible situation.

"I can't figure out how to accept the fact that the only woman that I have ever been in love with prefers betraying me rather than giving us a real chance."

She was sobbing uncontrollably. What had she done? The biggest mistake of her life just to recover the illusion of control. The happiest moments in her last years had been when she had let herself lose control with Will. He took her vulnerability like the exception it was and repaid her with a complete vulnerability of his own. Both vulnerable and yet willing to trust each other they had stumbled into a rare connection.

"The day that I discovered you and Cary were going away I knew I should have been angry. But Fury came later. That night I sat on my couch with a drink wondering what it was about me that drove you away, why you were stubbornly clinging to a promise made 20 years ago to a man that didn't know how good he had it."

The sobs had subsided. The weeping was now much more quieter but continuous. She still asked herself that question and couldn't find an appropriate answer. Maybe he had.

"Did you find answers?"

"No but then I went to sleep, I woke up and I realized I didn't care anymore. Whatever the reason is, I'm done being whatever I was to you. I might not get over you, but I still believe I have enough dignity to be something more than your lackey."

"You are tremendously more than my lackey. You're the man that I'm in love with."

She wished he would open the door so she could catch his eyes at her revelation.

"They could write a show about me, the politician's wife who is in love with a man who is not her husband."

"Not a very long one. The wife divorces and gets in the waiting arms of the man she is in love with."

Did she dare voice the idea that had been forming in her head and seemed more and more the only thing to do?

"Would those arms still be waiting even if the woman had an incredibly bad timing?"

She heard shuffling on the other side of the door. Will was getting up and then he was opening the door.

"What are you saying?"

His eyes were wet and devastated but she, being the Will-connoisseur she was, couldn't mistake the glint. It was hope. If Will could hope after everything it had happened, she could take a leap.

Alicia jumped.

"I'm saying, what if the woman divorced her husband way later than she should have and after having deeply betrayed the man. Would he be able to forgive her?"

But Will wasn't in vein of talking in hypotheticals.

"You were at his side tonight. You didn't look as a couple on the brink of divorce."

So he had paid attention after all. It had just gone unnoticed by her.

"I'm not saying this isn't sudden, Will. I spent my entire adult life following plan after plan. And you didn't fit in any of those."

"That's nice to hear."

"But, but, what was happening to you is happening to me now. I can't fall back in love with Peter because I'm still very much in love with you. And no matter how long I try to hide or torture this feeling out of me, it isn't going away."

"Why are you telling me this? Do you think I care about how much you hate what you feel for me?"

He was going back into the room but she grabbed his arm and made him turn. She kept her hand there and he didn't shake it away.

"No, listen, Will. I seem to be making one mistake after the other with you. What I have with Peter, it's comfortable, I'm used to it. It's what good for the children, for his political campaign..."

He shook her hand away but she put it firmly back where it was and kept going:

"Please, let me finish. I won't leave that life for nothing. It's not who I am. But if I were to have the option of more, I think I could do it."

"So you want me to tell you that I'll wait for you in case you decide to find the infinite strength to divorce Peter, that I'll forget and forgive and everything will be idyllic? Is that the fairytale you want me to tell you?"

"I know forgiveness is difficult. I know that recovering trust is even harder. If anyone can do it, it's you."

"Why? Because you've cast me as the White Knight and that's the part I'm supposed to play? Am I not allowed to be angry or upset or resentful?"

"No, of course you are. It's just that I'm seeing now how gigantic a mistake I made and the idea that there isn't any way to fix it..."

"You created this mess, you want a way out, it's up to you to find it, Alicia, and mainly to actually make it real. Divorce Peter, stop stealing clients using his aura, start being the Alicia I met at Georgetown and then, maybe, we can talk about whether forgiveness and trust are possible."

"You want me to risk it all for a possibility?"

"I don't want you to do anything. My opinion has never mattered in your life. But yes, if you truly love me, and you're not just, I don't know, missing a friend, you'll show me that I'm not the only one that gets to put myself out there just to be rejected over and over again."

"Would you reject me over and over again?"

A resigned ghost of a smile appeared on his face.

"Alicia..."

Oh, how she had craved hearing her name said by him like that. This was her Will, brimming with hurt and pain but also filled with affection, care and love.

"I think that, deep down, you know the answer to that question. But, after everything that happened, I need time. And I need more than stolen glances, secret meetings and regretted kisses."

She put her lips on his, slowly, gently, softly. With her tongue she enticed him to reveal his and in a few seconds they were passionately lost in each other.

She stopped, breathless.

"How about that? We can start with a kiss I don't regret."

He looked disheveled because her hands had been all over his hair but so desperately alluring that she wanted to throw caution to the wind and beg him to take her right then and there, on his bedroom door. Instead she took his hands and said:

"I love you Will. I'll work at giving you what you need, which is far less than you deserve. I hope that one day, you'll find me worthy of you again and then that kiss won't have to end."

His response was a murmur.

"I hope so too."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Enjoy and if you have time, review!**

The shiny and slightly-festive tickets contrasted heavily with the densely written pale-yellow block on which they were resting.

Two LOE VIP passes for the World Series.

She had asked for them impulsively, 4 weeks before. Normally the date didn't mean much to her if it wasn't connected to her trials or some of Peter's events.

But that day, 28 days prior, she had given a distracted look and remembered what would happen a month later. She had mentioned to Peter that one of her clients was a huge baseball buff and was there any way to obtain the tickets for the World Series. He had nodded, said he would have one of his staffers do it and kissed her goodbye.

What a difference two years made.

* * *

That same day, back during the time of her separation, he had come, late at night into her office with that happy smirk she normally adored, except that she was not in the mood for jokes and the likes. She had endured a terrible day in court. She wasn't up for some of Will's antics.

"Do you know today's date?"

She nodded, she had begun discussing in front of a judge a case she had been preparing for a long time that morning. And she had lost a key pre-trial motion. Damn it!

"Do you know what happens a month from now?"

She ransacked her head for the right answer and found it easily enough. She was working on a grave murder trial and he was thinking about such trivial things?

"Not even a 10-year-old starts being excited for their birthday a month before."

Her tone had been bitter and meant to stop the conversation. He was undeterred.

"No 10-year-old has a very busy, extremely sexy woman that will need time to find the proper costumes for my gift."

What the hell was he talking about?

"I'm thinking after the American Revolution, we could go with..."

"Seriously? Whatever you have in mind I'm sure we would put Kalinda on looking for the proper get-up. It's not like we're trying to save a woman from going to jail for the rest of her life."

"Fine, we'll talk about it tomorrow."

"No, we won't. I'll get you a win on this extremely-important case as a gift, how about that?"

The enthusiasm in him completely murdered, he nodded and said:

"You're right, I'm sorry. Goodnight."

The day after she had caught a break in court and seeing him working in his office had thought about how to apologize.

She decided everything in their sort-of-relationship. He couldn't see the kids, they could not talk about feelings and moving forward. He deserved whatever he wanted for his birthday. After all, the American Revolution night had been an enormous success. He had been so grateful, she had lost count of how many times he had brought her over the edge that night.

"What did you have in mind? For your present?"

"Forget it, you were right. You should focus on the trial."

As open as he had been in her office he was then completely closed off.

"I'm sorry again for overstepping. I tend to have an habit of doing that... I have to go, I have court. Don't worry about it, it was just me being an idiot."

His smile had been strained, fake, the sort of one he used on clients, not on her.

She wanted to be able to blame Will for pushing her into sexual fantasies she was not comfortable with. But she couldn't. If she had listened and he had suggested something she would have not liked to try, he would have backed off immediately and wouldn't have hold the slightest of grudges.

No, he had been upset because she hadn't even heard him, because she had closed the conversation like many others before it. He probably thought that she was using him just as an human vibrator.

She had to make it right.

She had gone into the shop of his baseball team and found herself surprised to see that there was a section dedicated to female, non-field-related gear.

The predictability of men.

She had gotten into one of those skimpy outfits she had found, complete with the cap and the bat she had borrowed from Kalinda. Then she had masked everything inside a large winter coat, to pass the doorman undisturbed and waited for him on his door.

She knew he was still at the office even if it was Friday night and midnight had passed by a couple of minutes, turning into his birthday. As soon as she heard the ping of the elevator her heart accelerated and she started to be a little nervous. She should have talked about this first with him.

He emerged from the elevator, clearly tired and then he saw her, swinging the bat, trying to imitate the professional she had seen in the games.

The transformation was a masterpiece. He had gone from being exhausted and slightly nervous to agape and caught in utter wonderment.

He moved slowly and predatorily but instead of feeling like a prize, his look empowered her. He seemed completely at her mercy, radically reversing the roles suggested by their clothes.

He had discarded his bag and was probably uncertain about what part of her to touch first. She hit him softly with her bath to check that he still possessed the capacity of moving and breathing.

"I was under the impression that you were eager for your birthday surprise. Are you going to stand there all evening?"

He reacted then, using the bat as leverage to bring her to him. Then he pinned her to the wall and while sensually kissing her from the top to the base of her neck said:

"You made a big mistake, dressing up like this."

She didn't even have the time of being insecure before he continued.

"You see, now I'm going to have to work all weekend to thank you for this surprise and I won't let you go until I'm done."

"You know, Mr. Gardner, given how long it took for you to get from the elevator to here, I'm not sure the weekend will be enough to properly thank me."

His responding look, a Willesque mix of uninhibited lust, competitive spirit and utter care turned her on like nothing else. She prepared to have his athletic ability unleashed on her.

She was not disappointed. He had hit a home-run before they even got to the door.

* * *

"Alicia, are you ok?"

Her reverie was broken by Cary's voice.

"You look feverish."

Feverish was one word for being in need of a cold shower after the memory of that weekend had started replaying in her head.

"Just tired."

"Going for a drink. Do you want to come?"

"No thanks, I'm just gathering my stuff and getting home."

"Ok, goodnight."

"Goodnight."

She hoped that Cary hadn't heard her openly moaning. It had been years since she had slept with Will, why were the images still so vivid?

She focused on the rectangles of paper on her desk. The parcel had arrived late in the evening, with two days to spare before the fatidic date.

Now that she held them in her hands she recognized the mistake in getting the tickets. It was an offensive idea. At best he would see them as the male equivalent of expensive jewelry given by a cheating spouse, a bribe to forgive her betrayal. At worst, he would be reminded of the same night she had been replaying in her mind, and been offended at her crass remark of how much things had changed between them.

She put them back in the package and put the package in a drawer. She would at least make a client happy.

* * *

She had fought the temptation to call him all day long. The birthday was the perfect excuse to hear his voice, to maybe try a conversation that wasn't only about a case.

At night, she couldn't contain the urge anymore. She used her office line so he wouldn't immediately recognize the number and refuse the call.

"If you're calling to offer the birthday boy a very-personalized present, you can either join the orgy or butt out."

Kalinda. She could hear Will's slightly inebriated voice in the background, scolding her for how she had answered her phone.

"Hello?"

She should have hung up. He was having fun, he didn't need her wishes. But then, almost without her control...

"Kalinda?"

The tone on the phone alerted that the call had ended. Kalinda either hadn't heard her or, worse, had willingly pushed that red button.

A few seconds later, her cell-phone came to life, the name "Kalinda" flashing on the screen.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I just wanted to wish him happy birthday. Nothing more than that."

"You must know that an happy birthday from you is never just an happy birthday. Leave him alone."

Kalinda was gone. If she had just let her talk to him, and say those two words, she could have let it go. She could not stand being completely frozen out. She grabbed her bag and prepared herself for a tour of his favorite bars and pubs.

* * *

Her second choice had been the correct one. She recognized Will and Kalinda in a booth, together with some of Will's friends and some women she did not recognize. The ones that said "yes" to the orgy, probably.

Someone had pointed at her and drunkly shouted to the friend: "Isn't that the first lady?"

Will turned and immediately signaled something to Kalinda. It was the investigator that once again confronted her. They both moved outside, since there were way too people waiting to "accidentally" overhear something.

"Wasn't I clear on the phone?"

"I wouldn't have come here if you had just let me talk to him."

"And say what? Happy birthday Will, thoughtful present the dagger in your back, don't you think?"

What was her answer supposed to be to that fury?

"Or do you have a newest gift, maybe another client stolen?"

She thought about how naive she had been, procuring those tickets. She could have given him the entire team and it wouldn't have mattered.

"Kalinda, that's enough."

His voice boomed in the quiet night.

"I need your help inside to keep the intruders at bay. Some of the judges have been propositioned too much. I wouldn't want to be accused of ruining their career."

He had sounded slightly inebriated on the phone but he was stone-cold sober now. Kalinda went back into the bar and he approached her.

Now that she had him in front of her, happy birthday seemed such a childish thing to say. But she didn't have a more palatable alternative.

"Happy birthday! I'm sorry about the commotion. We could have talked on the phone but then Kalinda..."

He did not move, he did not even minimally change his expression.

With a circumstantial "Thanks", he was on his way to the party.

"Will, wait, do you have five minutes?"

"What for?"

"To talk."

"No, I don't. I have to get back to my friends."

She was sure that the choice of words had been deliberate. His friends were back in the bar while she was outside, she didn't belong to that circle anymore.

"I'm never going to be your friend again, am I?"

"If Mrs. Florrick wants to have a pity-party about how the choices she made left her an alone and friendless First Lady, there are plenty of bars in Chicago that surely can accommodate that."

That Mrs. Florrick again. She hated him calling her that with a scorching passion. He never slipped. Not once had he called her Alicia since she had left L/G.

"Would you do me a favor and call me Alicia, just for tonight?"

"I am not a fan of séances."

"What?"

He was clearly waiting for that question.

"Alicia as I knew her is dead or maybe only existed in my imagination."

Torturers were not allowed to cry, were they? Why then were her eyes brimming with tears?

She didn't expect his reaction to the tears. Will had always been a comforting presence and maybe, deep inside, she had hoped that her crying would awake in him that instinct.

No such luck. He remained impassive.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"You should be. Where is Peter tonight?"

She was sure that answering the question would not bring to any positive outcome. She still did what she needed to do to prolong the conversation.

"At an event, in Springfield."

"What aren't you there with him?"

"It was a donors' dinner, I begged him to skip it."

"Right, so look at you crying on the sidewalk instead that at event with your family or in your corner office, with alcohol and a view. You sacrificed us for this?"

His eyes were getting humid now but he seemed to have found a second wind.

"It could have been like two years ago, us on a door and then on the counter, on the couch and on the bed, being so delightfully sated that we had to help each other even to get up and we had to remind ourselves to stop grinning at work the week after. It could have been like a year ago, working on a case together, me calling you into my office to wine and dine you. I would easily have ditched everyone in that bar to spend a night even just talking to you. You have to be sorry for this."

He was completely right. What had she done? How had she been so short-sighted not to foresee just how insufferable her life as a traitor would be?

" I, on the other hand, have to be sorry for giving myself false hope, for setting me up so carefully for a devastating failure. I have to be sorry for how much power over my happiness I have given you. I have to be sorry for how much strength it takes, even after what happened, for me to tell you these things. I have to be sorry for how hard I have to fight the urge to just take you in my arms and tell you to stop crying because everything will be ok."

"Don't fight it, Will" she would have wanted to shout. "Hug me, kiss me, tell me that there will be a future between us."

Instead she took his hand, relished the contact with his dry skin and the charge it could still give her.

"I'm sorry you're paying for my idiotic mistakes. But you shouldn't be sorry for loving me. I have never shown it but I love you too."

"What good does that make me?"

"It's the true answer to the many "whys" that people will ask me in the next months."

He seemed confused but she didn't clarify further the decisions she had taken that very night.

"You'll understand. Happy birthday, Will!"


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: This is the last one of these. Hope you enjoyed the five different versions! A word of warning: aside from the post-season 4 setting, it's quite AU and also Alicia is very OOC. It seems to be the only way for me to write Alicia/Will these days. **

Edward Flynn had not deserved the tears she had shed over him. Dumping her for a less high-maintenance girl that happened to be blonder and bustier was a tell-tale sign of an unworthy young man.

But he had been her first crush and she was just fifteen years old.

She had run back home convinced that homeschooling surely had to be the suitable method of education for her. Her mother had laughed, given her a glass of wine and told her:

"The next boy is just around the corner, Alicia. You're a woman now, use it and get over that one."

The implication had been sinister for her at the time. She wasn't comfortable in her body enough to be like the red-headed woman in the kitchen nor she particularly wished to be. She had closed herself off in her room, thankful for her brother's field trip. Her father had found her almost catatonic at her desk.

"Someone will sorely regret the decision he made today."

He was not angry at Edward, nor compassionate towards her. He had a serene and reassuring expression of his face, as if his was the voice of an oracle that had a clear glimpse of the future. At seeing him, the dam broke and she ran into his open arms crying.

"Oh, Daddy."

She did not use the childish nickname very often. But whenever something happened to her, her Daddy's girl identity came back in full force. In the arms of her father, Alicia could stop being strong and let go.

"You'll move on soon enough, you'll see."

"What if I don't?"

"The likes of Alicia Cavanaugh always get over the Edward Flynns. He couldn't keep up with you, sweetie. You were always out of his league, didn't I tell you that?"

She laughed but stubbornly repeated her question.

"What if I don't?"

"Then, if you're sure that you can't get over him, you get him back, because that is the person you should be with."

"How will I be sure?"

"Time is the most powerful antidote there is, sweetie. It heals all the ailments of love but one, the one caused by the true partner of your life."

Watching the photo on his gravestone she remembered the precise timbre of his voice at pronouncing the words. That warmth that protected and that seriousness that admonished were forever etched in her memory. She had accused him of being sappy and he had counteracted saying that she was the one crying over a brainless twat. They had both ended up laughing uncontrollably.

She was at the cemetery that day to acknowledge that another year without him had passed, that the calendar had hastily moved forward. One would think that she'd stop counting at a certain point. What good was it to know the number of years (and months) she had lived in a world without her father? Despite all her rationalizing, she just couldn't help herself. Especially lately, when her world spun furiously without making any sense and she would have done anything for a word of advice from the mute ashes that resided in the soil under the grass.

The recollection of Edward Flynn had not been random.

She had been treated to the grieving parade that accompanied Sir Thomas Connor to his resting place. Among the crowd she had spotted his lawyer, the man she couldn't commit out of her life.

Any effort on her part meant to extirpate him from her mind, to move on, had been fruitless, in vain. Months after that election night, he still plagued her thoughts as much as ever. Had she cared for him any less, she would have resented the tyranny exercised by the figure that was able to command her attention from a distance, without even being aware of it.

"Use the proper words, Alicia!" her father had taught her, as soon as she had learned how to talk.

She was terrified of using the proper words with Will.

"What words would those be, Daddy?" she craved to ask.

"Love? Betrayal? Hate? Loss?" she wondered silently.

She loved him. She had betrayed him. He hated her. She had lost him.

She hadn't been at all prepared for the agony the loss of Will had caused. She had been operating under the assumption that it would have been similar to the first time it had happened.

Wrong. Deadly wrong.

Back then, there had been a slew of painkillers coming her way, helping her to cope: the brand-new marriage with Peter, a newborn Zach, her ensconced in her Highland Park home with no chance at all of seeing him. Now that there wasn't anything to dull her pain, she felt it every day, an anchor dragging her down from any family-related, Peter-related, work-related high.

At night, whether Peter was sleeping next to her or in Springfield, her train of reflections veered dangerously towards him. Did he have someone to share his bed? Did his companion realize just how lucky she was? Would he ever give her again that lopsided smile of his? Would his eyes ever welcome something resembling affection towards her?

The fissure in her heart was not even in the process of closing. The ache as burning and debilitating as the beginning.

"You get him back, because that is the person you should be with."

Teary-eyed as she was, she wished she had a chance to answer to the man in her memory.

"It's too late, Daddy. It's too late."

* * *

Will was moving away and hadn't even noticed her or if he had, he had ignored her. She sprinted a bit to reach him.

"Will, wait up!"

He tensed immediately and froze in his position.

"I'm sorry for your client."

What a ridiculous ice-breaker that was! And yet, she didn't have much of a choice, did she?

"Madam First Lady, it's a surprise to see you here. The grieving family is that way, though I'd wait a little bit more to try and steal my business. They don't take well to outsiders."

"Will, I would never..."

The retort had been instinctual and she realized her mistake too late. His eyes had conjured a pure fury and incredulity that she would say something so stupid. She went for the truth, her last weapon.

"It's the anniversary of my father's death. I'm here to pay my respects."

The Will of a few months before would have taken her in his arms because he had been aware of the significance of that day for her ever since Georgetown. The one in front of her was trying to adjudicate a brawl in his head between his rage and his decency as a human being. Decency won.

"I am sorry, Mrs. Florrick, that was out of line. I'm due in court, I have to go."

She felt like crying and if wasn't for the brush-off. It was because, even in the only moment of kindness he had given her, even after her having confessed she was vulnerable, he still hadn't called her Alicia.

* * *

Grace was staying at a friends' house, Zach was in college, and she was due in Springfield for the night. Peter had remembered the date and had offered to skip the event but she had insisted. An evening out would take her mind off things. But that afternoon, putting on her makeup, she didn't have the strength to maintain the mask even for an hour.

She called Peter, told him he had been right and that he would spend the end of the day with Owen, maybe reminiscing about old times. He had agreed that it was a great idea, had asked if she wanted him in Chicago for the night, but she had refused and did not reciprocate the "I love you" at the end of the call.

It would be hypocritical because she had no intention of going to Owen's.

* * *

She had counted on his going home on foot, given the warm evening and she was not disappointed. He got out of the building that used to house her office and she approached him. She had parsed beforehand what kind of sentence would most be able to capture his attention. One had come prominently to the forefront of her mind but those three words would seem a manipulation and not the truth if she blurted them out as a sort of greeting. She had settled on something that would somehow reopen the pathetic excuse for a conversation they had had in the morning.

"I let my father down."

"I'm sorry for that."

"Don't you want to know how or why?"

He said nothing and picked up his pace. She almost ran to grab his arm. He stopped, breathing heavily as if he needed to calm down.

"Let me go. You lost the privilege of talking to me like this the day you walked away from that office..."

"I know, but Will..."

"Let me go, or your father won't be able to protect you from what I want to say. I'll be forceful, I'll be cruel, I'll be blunt and trust me, you don't want to hear any of it."

"What if I do want to hear it? Have at it, Will. Shout and vent, scream and call me names, I'll hear it all. It will be my first, minuscule, step towards atonement."

"Atonement, huh? Don't you see that there's no atonement for what you've done? That it will never be enough?"

"I think you're fooling yourself, Will. As long as you hate me, there's always a possibility for atonement."

"You're unbelievable. Do you listen to yourself? Is it being the First Lady of Illinois that makes you so conceited? Or is it something else? What is it, Alicia, that makes you so convinced that you'll get your way?"

It took him a bit to replay what he had just pronounced and that name he hadn't dared to use in so long. He had slipped.

There was hope.

"I never knew how much my name meant, until you stopped using it, Will."

"Oh, please, spare me the false sigh-inducing bullshit. I can see through your act now, don't you get that? I couldn't, for way too long but now my eyes have been opened. What do you want?"

" Time heals all the ailments of love but one, the one caused by the true partner of your life."

He used her distraction to start moving again. Will was a fast walker when he chose to be, and she had to struggle to reach him again.

"Spare me your fortune-cookie wisdom."

"It's not from a fortune-cookie. It's what my father told me the first time I got dumped."

"I'm sure he'd be glad to be proven wrong by the First Couple of Illinois."

He was trying to push her off-path. She continued undeterred.

"I forgave Peter completely. He has a new ethics assistant that is younger and much more beautiful than me and she even bears a passing resemblance to Amber Madison and he was so scared about it. About how I would take it. He wanted permission. I gave it easily. Do you know why?"

Silence. Her spleen was starting to ache at the speed he was forcing on her with his pace.

"I forgave him but if I have to be truly honest, I am sort of wishing he does it again."

That shocked him enough to warrant a pause on his part.

"Not the public humiliation or the kids getting hurt part, but him cheating again? It would give me an excuse to stop feeling guilty, to leave him once and for all."

"Don't look at me like that, Will. I'm not crazy. But I feel like I've been cheating on him for months now. He has become the ideal husband, you know? Or as ideal as a Governor can be for a husband. And as wonderful as he is, I still can't stop thinking about you."

He laughed, with a menacing flair.

"Why are you telling me this? Do you think it'll make anything better? That I'll feel better because you're thinking about me? I must have given you the impression of being an utter patsy. I must have."

"No, Will, listen..."

"No, you listen to me, very carefully. You could tell me that you think of me while you fuck him and I wouldn't care. You could tell me you loved me and it wouldn't even faze me a bit. You could shout to the world that you're leaving him and you're spending the rest of your life trying to get me back and it wouldn't change a thing. Whatever idyllic little idea you have in your mind won't come true..."

His eyes, completely focused on her, weren't telling a different story. On the other hand, they were helping him driving his point home. Far from being blank-faced he was ablaze now with the glint of revenge.

"Stop being selfish for a second and see your father's sentence from my point of view. I thought you were supposed to be the true partner in my life. So I won't forgive, time won't heal anything."

She should have maintained her composure but the weeping could not be halted.

"Tears won't move me either..."

"Stop, please, stop..." she murmured. She felt lightheaded, ready to drop on the cement pavement of the almost-void sidewalk.

"See? What did I tell you? You didn't want to hear it after all. Don't worry, I'll stop. Leave me alone and I'll be ecstatic to do the same."

She was exhausted, feeble, and frail as she had ever been. But her father's words came to her aide.

"You get him back!"

All of a sudden a surge of vim, of probably-quixotic enthusiasm animated her. She remembered the blue irises in his arms when she had allowed him to come visit his father one summer-break, the lengths he had gone to in order to improve her mood whenever she returned from Chicago, the fervor in his voice when she had chosen to accept his job-proposal, the intoxicating taste of his forbidden kisses, the heat of his hands all over her body, the smile he could barely contain whenever they ended up in a room together.

"I'm selfish, Will, you said it yourself so I won't leave you alone. I will pester and nag, I will stalk you until you'll get a restraining order."

"Please, you have a reputation to maintain."

"Try me, Will."

"You're delirious."

His tone was melting by the second.

"Maybe I am. But you know how I am when someone challenges me Will."

"I'm not doing any such thing."

"Fine, when I challenge myself."

"So I am a challenge now? A bet to entertain the bored First Lady?"

He was an extraordinary lawyer. At the moment, he was using that in his favor against her.

"You can twist my words however you like, Will. I'm in love with you and I'm tired of running."

He had spouted that a declaration of love wouldn't even faze him but that was talk. His body, that suddenly relaxed, the breath that he exhaled, the eyes abruptly devoid of all malice were all contradicting his previous words.

She still meant enough to him that he had to struggle a bit before regaining control.

"I know that I don't deserve a chance but I'm used to getting my way, I know it'll take time but I'm resilient, I know it's an impossible task but I'm conceited enough to believe in my success. I know that I come with a baggage of complications that you'd have to sift through but I'm sure that we would be worth it, Will. Given a real chance at a relationship, without me stupidly trying to sweep it under the carpet, without you being my boss, without me being married, without you worrying about Diane..."

She took a brief pause to make sure he was still following.

"Given a real chance, we wouldn't fizzle and die. We would thrive, as we would have at Georgetown, Will. And I know you probably already knew all of this, that you tried to tell me in one way or the other. I'm sorry is never going to be enough but it's all I have."

"I don't believe in any of that anymore."

Resignation had replaced his turmoil of emotions. He was telling her his truth.

"Think about your advice before my closing in the Criminal Law mock trial. Don't you remember? Me all scared on your couch? Terrified of losing the one case in which we had gotten to represent an innocent? "You're a powerhouse, Alicia. If you believe what you're saying, the jurors will succumb to your point of view without even noticing." Quite a few years have gone by but I'm still that powerhouse, Will. You'll succumb to my point of view. You won't have to look longingly at reunited families anymore. I won't have to spend the rest of my life wondering what if. We'll get to live instead of watching others living."

"Once upon a time there was a madwoman named Alicia. Reality brought her home and washed her folly away. The end."

"Once upon a time there was a boy making cannonballs at an Orientation Party and a girl watching him shyly from the sidelines. There's only a way a story like that ends."

She saw the effort he was making to stop himself from engaging in that exchange. He was biting his lip but, despite what probably would have been his better judgment, insanity prevailed.

"One way?"

"One way."

"I thought you hated fairytales and cheesy romantic movies."

"There's an exception to every rule."

He moved away from her, towards his home. The road would be long and winding and her effort was just beginning but her father would be proud of what she had done that night. Fighting for the partner in his life. She was confident to have gotten through to him.

Before he could be out of earshot, he turned around and asked a rhetoric question.

"Happily ever after?"

She responded with her first true smile in way too many months and a promise.

"Happily ever after."


End file.
